


Heart of the Crocodile

by VyeLoyomBrightwarrior



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Episode: s02e04 The Crocodile, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder, Self-Esteem Issues, [doesn't actually happen]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VyeLoyomBrightwarrior/pseuds/VyeLoyomBrightwarrior
Summary: This is a retelling of the Crocodile from Rumpelstiltskin's pov. Things in the story might not be how other characters would see it or how it actually happened, but it is how I think Rumple saw it. So, I hope you all enjoy the angst!





	1. The Spinner

He had always hated bars, ever since he was little. His papa had spent so much time in them, and from what he’d been able to tell as a child, bars were just places people went to get drunk and lose all their money. He understood the appeal a bit more now, but he still didn’t like them. Sure people could go there to forget their troubles for a while, but all the problems would still be there later, and you’d have less coin and more of a headache when you had to deal with them.

Still, if Milah wanted to go there on occasion he wasn’t going to argue. At least, he normally didn’t argue. But lately she’d been going more and more, to the point where it was affecting Bae. Today he’d gotten home from the market after purchasing more wool, calling out for his wife and son.

“Milah? Bae?” he’d asked as he came in the door, looking around for his family. “I’m home.” It didn’t take him long to spot his son sitting by the fire, but Milah had been nowhere in sight. “Bae,” he’d greeted his son.

“Papa?” Bae had responded. He’d looked so… so  _ sad _ sitting there by himself. Rumple still remembered when his father would leave him somewhere for periods of time so he could run cons. He’d hated being left alone, but he’d gotten used to just sitting there all numb as he waited for the man to return. To his dismay, Bae had that same look he’d once worn.

“Where’s Mom?” he asked, dreading the answer. Bae just wrinkled up his nose before sighing, his sadness and sense of abandonment unspoken. It hurt so much to see Bae so distraught, so Rumple rushed to reassure him. “Well she probably just… lost track of time,” he offered, even though he didn’t believe that himself. Still, he didn’t want the lad to think ill of his mother, or to think she didn’t care about him. So that bit of comfort was the best he could offer. “Grab your cloak,” he’d told his son as he set down the basket of wool, resting his hand on his son’s shoulder. He wasn’t going to leave Bae here all alone after all. That would just make things worse for the lad. “We’ll find her.”

And they had indeed found her. It hadn’t taken long for him to either. This wasn’t the first time she’d come to the bar. He’d left Bae waiting outside, because a bar was no place for a child, and he hoped to only be inside for a moment. It didn’t take long for him to spot Milah either, as she was with the noisiest group in the place. It looked like she was gambling, and he winced to himself, wondering if they were going to have enough coin left after she was done to make it through the week.

“Milah,” he spoke to get her attention. She looked up at the sound of her name, but the minute that she saw it was him she rolled her eyes and turned her head away. It was something he was used to, but it still hurt all the same. “Milah,” he said again, a bit softer now he had her attention. “It’s time to go,” he said, gesturing to the door with his head and his hand. He wanted to talk about this with her, about how she’d left Bae alone and how the boy seemed to be upset by it, but he wasn’t going to do that in front of a bar full of people. He just needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible so they could have a real discussion.

Milah, however, didn’t seem to want to cooperate. “Good, so go,” she said as she poured herself another drink. It was a clear dismissal of him, one he often listened to when they were at home. And he’d leave now if it wasn’t for the fact that Bae was outside, waiting for him and for his mother. Rumple couldn’t leave without her.

“Who’s this?” the man sitting across from Milah asked, looking him over. Most of the men at the table were actually, and it made him feel more and more uncomfortable. Why did this have to be so hard?

“Ah, it’s no one,” Milah said. He felt his heart break just a bit at being dismissed like that so readily in front of so many people. He tried to ignore it. It shouldn’t surprise him, not anymore. “It’s just my husband,” she added, venom in her voice. He swallowed, looking off to the side, unable to look at her for a moment. He knew she didn’t think highly of him, but did she have to treat him like this in front of others?

“Oh, well he’s a tad taller than you described,” the man with Milah said. Everyone at the table laughed, Milah included. In fact, she almost spit out the drink she’d been sipping, and Rumple felt more broken than ever. He wasn’t sure if she really had described him to these men or not, but she’d laughed at the joke they’d made about him, as if he wasn’t already aware he was small for a man. He twisted his can a bit, fidgeting uncomfortably. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He needed to get them out of there now, before he lost the little bit of nerve he still had.

“Please,” he spoke up, somehow managing to speak at a normal volume even though all he really wanted to do was disappear. “You have responsibilities,” he hinted. Surely she’d understand he meant Bae. He didn’t normally make her leave here, surely she understood the only reason he’d come was Bae. But he didn’t want to say so outright, because he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her ‘friends’. So he hoped he was being vague enough that it wouldn’t cause her to be upset. Unfortunately, it seemed he’d failed.

“You mean like being a man and fighting in the Ogre Wars?” she asked defensively. Every time they talked, things always seemed to be dragged back to that. That one choice he’d made that would haunt him for the rest of his days. The man sitting across from Milah stared at him accusingly, the same way Milah was, and he wasn’t sure if that meant he’d already heard this or not, but it made him want to shrink into himself and disappear.

“Other wives became honored widows while I became lashed to the village coward,” MIlah continued, venom leaking from her voice and paralyzing him. He knew she felt that way. She’d said it before. But in front of all these people? He didn’t know what to say, or do. He didn’t know how he was supposed to react when she was ranting at him so hatefully with an audience there supporting her every word. All it did was cement the idea that he should have fought and died, even further into him. He was a coward, he should have fought. But he hadn’t. So he deserved this.

“I need a break,” Milah continued, waving aside her responsibilities because he’d ignored his. And that… that was understandable but… but Bae. Could she really sit her and gamble and drink when Bae was home alone waiting for her to return? “Run home, Rumple. It’s what you’re good at.” The words felt calculated, like they were supposed to hurt him as deeply as possible. She took another sip of her drink as his gaze fell to the floor. She was right. Maybe he should just go home. If Milah wasn’t going to take care of Bae, than he could. Maybe, just maybe, that could make her happy.

“Mama?” The questioning voice broke Rumple from his thoughts, and he turned to see Bae standing there, staring at Milah and the others at her table. He must have taken too long, for Bae to have come looking for them.

“Bae,” he said in surprise, turning to look at his son and missing Milah’s stunned expression. “You were supposed to wait outside son,” he reminded his boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t wanted Bae in a bar, and he certainly hadn’t wanted the lad to see what had just happened. How much had he seen? How much had he heard? At least it did one good thing for them. Milah finally got up from the table and came over, steering Bae out of the place and leaving Rumple to limp along behind them.

Later that night Bae had finally gone to bed, so it was just him and Milah left awake. He should talk to her about their son, but her words from earlier were ringing in his head. So when he spoke, it was a question, one he had on his mind more often than not. “You don’t  _ really _ wish I’d died… during the Ogre Wars do you?” he asked as he poured a cup of tea. He turned to her then, watching her to see her reaction, needing to know the truth, needing to know if she hated him as much as it felt like she did.

She stared at him for a moment before laying back in bed, closing her eyes. “I wish you’d fought,” she told him. “Don’t you?” But didn’t she understand? Fighting would have meant dying. No one from their village had made it back alive. No one, except him. Her saying she wished he’d fought might as well be her saying she wished he’d died, for all the difference it would make.

“Well I-I’m alive,” he countered, getting to his feet so he could bring the cup of tea over to Milah. She turned her head to the side as he approached, not seeming content with his answer. But then, she never was these days. “And I’m here, with you, with Bae.” And wasn’t that the most important thing? He was here, he was alive, he could be there for his family instead of being dead and gone and unable to help them in any way. Didn’t that mean anything?

But Milah just sighed and shook her head as he sat on the bed next to her. “This isn’t a life, not for me.” And to him, that meant that he wasn’t good enough. He should have died because then Milah could have whatever life she wanted and not be held back by him. That’s what it sounded like, at any rate. That was what it felt like she meant. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“W-we’ve talked about that,” Rumple said, quick to shut that line of talk down as he held out the tea for her to take. Because they had, and every time they did the chances of them finding somewhere better to be seemed to grow even smaller. For one thing, they would have to travel far to leave his reputation behind, and even if they got to a village that didn’t know his name, they might know he was a coward due to his bad leg. It wouldn’t be hard to deduce. And if they somehow reached a place where he wasn’t thought to be a coward, what then? They would have sold almost everything just to make it that far. They would be poor, homeless. Wandering vagrants in a worse position than he’d been in while traveling with his father. What kind of life would that be?

“You don’t have to be the village coward,” Milah insisted, refusing to let her dream die and ignoring the tea he offered her. And he had to admit that it sounded nice, and he wished it were possible. But it just wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. There were too many risks, and every logical thought pointed to them dying long before they found the happiness Milah dreamed of. “We could start again, go somewhere no one knows us, see… the whole world beyond this village.”

The worst part was he wished it was possible. He wished the happiness he saw on her face when she talked like this could last. He wished he could give her this. But he couldn’t, he knew it wasn’t possible. Because even if they got somewhere new and got established, he’d still be there. The problems they had… Rumple didn’t believe they’d be solved if they moved somewhere else. He didn’t believe a new town could change the way his wife viewed him, no matter how much he wished it could.

“I know this wasn’t the life you wanted,” he stated as he stood, accepting that Milah didn’t want the cup of tea. He moved away, back towards the table. “But it… it  _ can _ be good,” he insisted _ . I can be good enough, right? Just give me another chance. _ “Here.” They could have a good life here, not a perfect one but a good one. He had to believe that.

He sat then, setting the tea on the table in front of him. He felt like he could speak his mind a bit more now that he wasn’t looking at Milah. For some reason, when he looked her in the eye he felt like she was judging everything he said. So talking was easier when he wasn’t facing her. “At least try,” he begged her softly. “If not for me then… for Bae.” Because he knew she wouldn’t do anything for him, not anymore. But they both loved Bae so much, surely they could make things work for him.

“Okay,” Milah whispered. “I’ll try.” And he smiled softly because that was all he needed. Surely, if they were both really trying, they could make this work. They could do this, together. He knew they could.

It was only a week later when a knock came at the door. That in itself was unusual, since very few wanted to associate with the coward or his family. So Rumple opened the door, and he didn’t even have a chance to say anything before his neighbor started talking. “Rumpelstiltskin, you need to get to the docks now,” she told him urgently.

“The docks? Why?” he asked, confused. His first thought was that perhaps some merchant had come in who might want to buy thread and would pay a better price than he normally got. But that hope was dashed as soon as his neighbor opened her mouth.

“The men who came into port last week; they’ve taken Milah.” He felt his blood go cold at the information, heart plummeting down. He didn’t know why they would have taken Milah. Maybe they just wanted someone to kidnap and Milah had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe they knew who she was and figured the coward’s wife was an easy target. Whatever the reason, she was kidnapped, and he didn’t dare to think of what they might do to her. “They’re setting sail, you must hurry.”

And so hurry he did, leaving Baelfire with his neighbor, trusting her to take care of the lad while he was gone. He made it to the docks easily enough, but slowed as he reached the ship. He remembered how all the men had laughed at him, and wondered what chance he even had of getting them to let Milah go. A part of him wanted to just turn around and go home, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Milah to the pirates and whatever fate they had in store for her. So he took a deep breath, and walked onboard the ship.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t at all used to the rocking of a ship, and his bad leg didn’t exactly do him any favors. He fell to the deck, crying out softly and wincing internally. This was not the way he’d wanted to approach the piartes, and he felt like it might be a bad omen for how the rest of this encounter would go.

People laughed at him as he raised his head, looking about the ship. And of course, the captain had to be standing right in front of him. “On your feet for the captain,” one of the men commanded, and suddenly two sailors were hoisting him to his feet, roughly shoving his staff into his hand. He watched them nervously, but that was all they did. Once he was standing they moved away from him, leaving him to talk to the captain.

“I-I remember you,” he addressed the captain as he pointed at the man. “F-from the bar.” He’d been the person sitting across from Milah at the table. Maybe he’d taken her because she’d won against him one too many times while gambling? He wasn’t sure, but it made a bit more sense why Milah had been taken now. The men knew her personally.

“It’s always nice to make an impression,” the captain said, addressing his men more than Rumple as he smirked, making some kind of joke at Rumple’s expense. The men all laughed, before the captain turned back to him, spreading his arms wide as if making peace with him. “Where are my manners? We haven’t been formally introduced. Killian Jones. Now, what are you doing aboard my ship?”

The man seemed like he had no idea why Rumple would be there, but that was absurd. Surely he remembered meeting Rumple at the bar, with all the jokes that had been made at Rumple’s expense. Surely it wasn’t a surprise to him that a man would come to try and rescue his wife when she was taken. It seemed more like the captain just wanted to hear him say his reasons, and Rumple supposed he didn’t have much of a choice other than to comply. “W-well ah… you have my wife.”

He hated having this conversation with so many men watching, but then he didn’t think the captain would agree to talk in private. So there was a whole crew to hear the captain’s reply. “I’ve had _ many _ a man’s wife.” His ‘joke’ was met with laughter, and Rumple felt a bit nauseous thinking about the man forcing himself on Milah. Surely he wouldn’t do that, right? Wrong. The more Rumple saw, the clearer it was that these were pirates. They would likely do whatever they pleased, including force themselves on women. On Milah.

He hated the very idea of that happening to Milah, but if the pirate had indeed taken many women, he was sure just begging him not to take Milah wasn’t going to be enough to convince him. So he tried the one thing that Jones might actually listen to. “No, y-y-you see, we… we have a son, and he needs his mother.” Maybe, just maybe, the pirate might do the more honorable thing for a child when he wouldn’t for any other reason. It was his only hope. Milah’s only hope.

The captain stepped closer to him then, making him back away worriedly. “You see, I have a ship full of men who need… companionship,” the man countered. The men all chorused their agreement as Rumple stared at the man who’d gotten into his personal space and placed a hand on his shoulder, scared and not wanting to believe that this could be his wife’s fate.

“I-I’m begging you,” Rumple pleaded, unwilling to give up on helping Milah. There wasn’t much he could do, but he’d do almost anything the man asked. “Just please let her go.” She didn’t deserve this. She shouldn’t have to go through this. Please, please let the pirate have mercy on him.

“I’m not much for bartering,” the captain said as though Milah were just some goods he happened to have. It made Rumple feel even more sick, thinking of Milah being captured by this man. “That said,” the man said, backing away again as he spoke. “I do consider myself an honorable man, a man with a code. So… if you truly want your wife back….” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect because Rumple was hanging on to every word he said. Anything he could give, he would. All he wanted was to make sure Milah was safe.

But a clang came then, and he looked at his feet to see a sword laying there. He gasped, eyes widening in horror as the truth started to dawn on him. The captain drew his sword slowly out of his sheath, pointing it right at Rumple as he stared up at the man. “All you have to do is take her.”

As if it would be that easy. As if a crippled man used to being on land could win a sword fight with an experienced pirate onboard a ship. As if, if he somehow did manage to win, the rest of the crew wouldn’t intervene or just kill him the moment he landed a blow on their captain. No, fighting would mean death, and what then? Then the pirates would just take Milah and leave, laughing at how stupid the coward had been to dare to cross them. And Bae. Bae would be all alone then, with no mother or father to care for him.

“Never been in a duel before, I take it?” the pirate asked him as Rumple breathed heavily, a bit panicked. He couldn’t fight. The thought of it scared him, as the last time he’d held a sword had been training for the war he ran away from. And that training would be pitiful compared to an experienced pirate’s abilities. But Milah. Oh gods Milah. He couldn’t let them have her. But he couldn’t save her either.

“Well it’s quite simple really,” Jones continued, seeming to rather enjoy Rumple’s fear. “The pointy end goes in the other guy.” Everyone laughed at that, but all Rumple could do was stand there, clutching his staff close to himself. He couldn’t expect pirates to play fair, and so he was sure he’d be dead if he tried to grab for the sword. Even if the man was honorable enough to let him pick it up, he’d be dead soon after. This was just like the Ogre Wars. Fighting meant dying, and dying meant abandoning his son. That was something he couldn’t do.

“Go on,” Jones teased, his sword pressing into Rumple’s chest, right where his heart was. He wasn’t breaking skin, or even cutting Rumple’s shirt, but his threat was clear as he twisted the sword. The man would indeed kill him in an instant. “Pick it up.” Rumple just stood there, trembling and refusing to move, to fight and die when his death would accomplish nothing. The pirate moved his sword higher, trailing it along Rumple’s cheek as he tried to stay as still as possible despite the fearful tremors moving through him.

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets,” the captain told him spitefully. Rumple couldn’t stop himself from crying ever so softly as the blade moved against his cheek, pressing into it. It, like before, wasn’t enough to break skin, but it still had him fearing for his life. And Milah. He knew for sure he couldn’t rescue her now. There was nothing he could do. She was going to be used and eventually killed by a bunch of pirates. And he hated that he was too weak to do anything about it.

“Please sir,” he begged one last time, voice breaking in his sorrow for Milah, and for Bae. They didn’t deserve this. They deserved to be safe and loved and protected. But he wasn’t man enough to protect either of them. Everything they were about to suffer was because he couldn’t fight. He might deserve it, but they didn’t. “What am I gonna tell my boy?”

“Try the truth,” the captain returned, obviously not at all concerned with Rumple or his predicament. “His father’s a coward.” And with that he walked away, leaving Rumple to stand there fighting the tears that threatened to spill down his face at any moment. He was left alone, with nothing to do but grip his staff close as he tried to come to terms with the fact that Milah was going to go through the worst torture imaginable, and all because he was too weak to save her.

He was much slower on his walk back home, dreading having to tell his son what had happened. What did he even say? ‘Hey Bae, listen, your mother was sort of kidnapped by a bunch of pirates who are probably going to rape and kill her, and I was too weak to stop them.’ No, no Bae didn’t need to know the details. He was just a boy, he certainly didn’t need to know that his mother was going to be abused the way the pirate had hinted at. Which left only one thing for Rumple to say. But that didn’t make it any easier to do.

He slowly opened the door to his hut. He’d passed his neighbor’s house on the way home, and seen that she’d been looking out the window, keeping an eye on Bae even if she hadn’t stayed in the same room as him. She’d seen him though, coming home alone, and given him a pitying look before turning back to her own family. Rumple had never felt more useless in all his life.

He slipped into the house now, quietly as possible in case his son had managed to fall asleep. Of course he hadn’t though, likely waiting up for both his parents. “Papa?” Bae asked. “When is Mama coming home?” The fact that he asked when she was coming back instead of where she was struck him. Bae was too used to his mother being gone, doing things other than being home with her son. And now… now….

He shook his head, both hands going to his staff, holding it as though it could provide him a form of comfort. “She isn’t,” he told his son, his voice shaky as he relayed the news.

Bae just stared at him for a long moment, not seeming to understand. “Why not?” he questioned, and Rumple’s heart broke at the innocence in the question. He walked over to his boy, sitting down in front of him. He wanted to be as close as possible to his son, wanted to be able to comfort the lad once he understood the gravity of the situation. Because this would hurt. It would be the worst thing that had ever happened to Bae. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to Rumple. But he needed his son to know he wouldn’t have to go through this alone.

He went to place his hand on his son’s shoulder, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He was the reason Milah was suffering after all. It was his fault, and comforting Bae… it seemed wrong somehow. So he just said the words instead, the words that weren’t true yet but would be eventually, he was sure. “Because she’s dead son.”

He was crying now as he finally placed his hand on his son’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug as the lad started to cry. “I’m so sorry,” he told the boy, apologizing not just because Bae was feeling pain, but because he’d been too weak to stop it. “I’m so sorry Bae,” he cried, clutching the lad closer and letting him cry onto his shirt. “But I promise you, I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He’d failed to protect Milah, but he’d be damned before he let something happen to Bae. If he’d tried to save Milah Bae would have lost both parents, but now that wasn’t true. Now he could die trying to protect his son and no one would be left behind to miss him, other than the person he would try to save. Bae was all he had now, and so he could afford to make this promise.

“We’ll always be together,” he comforted his son. They’d lost Milah, but they wouldn’t lose each other too. Milah…. He wished he could have saved her, even wished it was her here with their son instead of him. But there was no use in wishing for something that couldn’t be. She was gone, as good as dead, but he wouldn’t let anything like that happen to Bae. Not while he was alive. “Always.”


	2. The Dark One

He had promised his son that he would be there with him forever, but that had been a lie. He’d been a weak coward, even after he’d gotten more power than he knew what to do with. He’d still managed to lose his son, to let Bae fall down the portal alone, without him. Because he’d been too terrified of what would happen. But he was going to make it up to Bae. If the man wearing the red hat was to be trusted, he had a bean that could take him to his son. He had no problem paying the man’s price, just as soon as he came back with said bean.

But then something caught his attention, a voice he remembered all too well. It wasn’t the maid, asking if he was sure he didn’t want anything. It was a man’s voice, calling out into the tavern. “Where’s my scurvy crew?”

“Ah, here we be, captain,” another man answered as Rumple turned, seeing one Killian Jones standing there, joking with his crew just like Rumple remembered him doing from what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Where’s my beer?” the pirate asked, obviously still only interested in his crew and a good time, while Rumple watched him in disbelief. Here was the man who had taken his wife for ‘companionship’. And now… now Rumple actually had the power he’d lacked before. Power he could use to save his wife, if by some miracle she was still alive. And if she wasn’t… well Rumple could settle for revenge instead.

“You know, I suddenly find myself quite thirsty,” Rumple told the barmaid, continuing to watch the rowdy crew as she set his drink in front of him. He was going to make sure Killian got what was coming to him, especially if he hadn’t learned to be nicer to people, which it seemed he hadn’t. Still, Rumple wasn’t averse to testing him, after observing him for a bit. 

So it happened that he followed the less sober pirates out of the bar, pulling his cloak over himself so that he looked more like a beggar than anything else. No matter what happened, he was going to ask Jones about Milah, but now he would test the man, see if he’d changed to have even an ounce of empathy towards someone less fortunate than himself, someone who couldn’t give him anything.

He rattled the cup that he had, coins clinking together inside, as he stumbled along, purposely bumping into the pirate captain.

“Hey you! Stop!” the pirate yelled at him, just like he’d thought the man would. He smirked to himself, unseen thanks to his cloak. “Even gutter rats have more manners than you just displayed,” Jones taunted him, his ever loyal crew muttering their agreements to his assertion.

“Nah, I’m so sorry sir,” Rumple replied as he turned towards the pirate. He was careful to keep his head down she he couldn’t be recognized yet, and he disguised his voice as well. Would Jones let him off with just an apology? He highly doubted it, but he was curious to see.

Still, some of his skin was visible now that he was facing the captain, and apparently that was all the man needed in order to make more jokes. “Ah, I was wrong. Not a rat at all. More… more like a crocodile!” The other men laughed at his joke about Rumple’s odd skin texture, and it only made the Dark One smile all the more. After all, it was so satisfying hurting people when they so obviously deserved it.

But that wasn’t all Jones was going to do. He stepped forward, knocking the cup out of his hand and sending coins scattering all over the ground. Rumple bent to pick them up, still playing the part of a beggar, and Jones used that opportunity to kick him, knocking him over onto his side. “What’s your name… crocodile?” he asked as his men continued to laugh at what the thought was a poor unfortunate beggar. But oh were they wrong.

He joined in the laughter with a giggle of his own, having decided he had enough information. It was time to drop the act. He stood, flipping his hood back as he giggled, eyes settling squarely on the pirate captain. And it had just the affect he’d been hoping for.

“You. I remember you,” Jones said, pointing at him and looking at his face as if he was trying to place him. And oh, didn’t Rumple just have the perfect thing to say to that?

“Always nice to make an impression,” he replied as he flipped a coin towards the pirate. He remembered how the pirate had used that line on him before. It was, he decided, a bit dehumanizing. Someone remembered you, and you just blew them off, because you were worth remembering and they weren’t. That was why it had bugged him when the pirate had said it all those years before. Now, though, he relished it.

“Where are my manners, we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said, continuing to reuse lines the pirate had said to him, all to make it clear why he was doing this. This was for what the man had done to Milah, whatever that might be. “Rumpelstiltskin,” he introduced himself, giving the pirate a bow. “Or as others know me, the Dark One.” He stood straight again, glaring at the pirate captain and relishing the fear that the crew displayed. He didn’t even care that he was shorter than all of them. That only made this all the more funny. A crew of pirates, scared of a little coward like him. Oh revenge could be so fun!

The captain stared at him, obviously unhappy, while the rest of the men backed away from him. “Oh!” he called out just to startle them, loving that the men who had laughed at him were now backing away in terror. The captain was the only one who stood his ground, which was just as well. Rumple still needed to talk to the man after all. He couldn’t have him scurrying too far away. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“It does,” Jones admitted flatly. Gone was his taunting and laughing, replaced by a serious, gloomy demeanor.

“Good!” Rumple exclaimed, more than happy to see the man who had tormented him finally start to take him seriously. “That’s going to save us time during the question and answer portion of our game.” He held up his fingers while he talked, one for question and one for answer, and then grinned broadly at the unamused pirate. He found it exhilarating to turn the tables on the man. After all, he’d been rather distraught when the pirate had made a joke out of him. It was only fair that Jones suffered the same feeling.

“What is it you want to know?” the pirate asked, getting straight to the point.

“How’s Milah, of course?” he asked, eyes narrowing and smile turning dangerous. After all, it was Milah who the pirate had really harmed, and it was the sins he’d committed against her that he’d have to answer for.

The pirate, however, didn’t seem to want to play along. “Who?” he asked making Rumple all the angrier. If Jones remembered him, then he had to remember Milah, who spent more time with the man and who the man had done far worse things too. He wasn’t amused at the game the pirate was playing, and if it wasn’t a game? If he really didn’t remember? That would honestly be even worse.

The man even had the gall to smile as he asked the question, and Rumple gave him a giggle in response. It wasn’t an amused giggle, however. It was more a pity one, one that said he didn’t find what the pirate had said to be funny, and the man better not pull that sort of thing again. But to be safe, he followed the giggle up with words. “Only too happy to uh, dig out the memory, but… it gets really messy.”

Jones was back to glaring at him instead of smiling, so he figured he’d made his point. “She’s dead,” the man admitted after a moment’s pause. “Died a long time ago. What is it you want?” And while that was what he’d expected to hear, he still felt a jolt of sadness. Milah, poor Milah. She hadn’t deserved that. But he couldn’t change her fate, so instead he’d have to content himself with making the pirate pay.

“We didn’t get a chance to finish our duel,” Rumple said. It would be fitting, in so many ways. He knew that Jones wouldn’t have a chance against a near immortal being like him, but then the original duel hadn’t exactly been fair either. This time it would be the pirate who couldn’t possibly win, and Rumple would relish destroying him for what he’d done to Milah.

The man reached for his sword then and there, and Rumple stopped him, raising his hand. “Ah, not now,” he chastised. “Tomorrow at dawn.” That would be a bit more theatrical. And… well he wasn’t entirely feeling up to killing the man at the moment. He needed time, time to let the fact that Milah was truly dead sink in. Time to grieve a bit, before he killed her murderer. And besides, he didn’t want Jones to die in front of his crew, a sympathetic audience. No he would die alone with the Dark One. Whether he considered that a blessing or a curse was up to him.

“I am not a cruel man,” he said, putting on his best Dark One performance, gesturing with his hands and everything. He might not feel up to fighting now, but he had a reputation to keep, and he was going to keep it. “Get your affairs in order.” It was a chance the man had never given to him. Rumple never would have even been able to say goodbye to his son if he’d chosen to fight. So he was rubbing that in the man’s face. Jones fancied he had a code, did he? Well, what would he do when the Dark One acted more honorably than he had?

Though, he couldn’t act too nice. His reputation, and all that. “Also, you can spend tonight knowing… it will be your last.” He pointed at the man as he spoke, giving off one of his trademark Dark One giggles. “Maybe I am cruel,” he mused. And now for the part where he ensured the pirate wouldn’t chicken out. The man had to face him, had to pay for what he did to Milah. So Rumple wasn’t going to give him an out. If he hadn’t wanted to fight the Dark One, he shouldn’t have kidnapped and killed Milah all those years ago.

“And don’t think about trying to escape,” he said, leaning in closer to the man, “because I will find you, and I will gut your entire crew  _ like the fish _ .” He said the last three words in an accent for emphasis, smirking at the taller man. Odd how it didn’t feel like the captain was that much taller. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was the one in control. Either way, he knew he had the captain then, the way the man glared at him. It was obvious he’d show up for the fight at dawn.

And sure enough, the next day the pirate was there, presumably ready for the fight. Or more like ready to die and finally pay for his crimes. He watched from the rooftop he’d been sitting on, waiting for the right moment, and then tossed his sword down at the pirate’s feet. It was a nice little reminder of the way that a pirate had thrown a sword at his own feet, and it was something he just couldn’t pass up. Jones looked to him then, and Rumple smirked, calling down to him. “Pick it up, Dearie, and let’s begin.”

The pirate, naturally, refused to do as Rumple said. “There’s no need,” he insisted as he reached for his own sword. Too bad for him it wasn’t there anymore.

Rumple teleported behind the man, a cold smile on his face as he regarded Jones. “Sorry, but killing a man with his own sword was just too delicious to pass up.” He stepped back, waiting for the man to pick up the sword he’d tossed to him. He wouldn’t kill the man right away, oh no. He wanted to see Jones try, struggle, and loose the way he’d tried so hard to get the man to give Milah back. Sure he’d used words, but the pirate seemed to only understand the way of the sword, so the way of the sword it would be.

Jones stooped and picked up the sword, and Rumple’s smile widened ever so slightly. He made a noise, almost as if to say ‘well? What are you waiting for?’ And that was all it took for the pirate to yell, lunging at him. The sword only clashed a few times before Rumple used his magic to appear behind the man, letting him throw himself off balance with his attack.

“Ships that pass in the night,” he taunted. “Or at least one ship.” It worked to enrage Jones, and Rumple smiled as the man went on the offensive, hacking at him with his sword as Rumple parried every attack. Eventually he used the pirate’s momentum against him, sidestepping an attack so that Jones went falling into some barrels piled up in the alley. Rumple waited, giving Jones time to get up again. He could have killed the man several times already, but he hadn’t yet. He was toying with the man, wanting to see any hope the man had drain from his eyes before he killed him.

Jones continued to attack, angry and panting, and it was all too easy for Rumple to deflect, even grabbing the man’s sword hand at one point and hitting the pirate in the face with his sword’s hilt. If he didn’t have the aid of magic, and hadn’t enraged the pirate, then Jones would probably be winning. But that was part of the fun. Jones was losing to a poor crippled spinner, a man he never should have lost too, or would have before he’d become the Dark One. Jones had been a bully of the worst sort, only now he was faced with someone more powerful than him and was finally paying for his crimes.

It wasn’t long before Jones fell to his knees with his sword having dropped and slid out of reach. Rumple pointed his sword at Jones, watching him as the man looked up into his eyes. And there it was, the knowledge that no matter what he did, he couldn’t win. That he was going to die. A similar despair to the one he’d felt when the certainty that he couldn’t help his wife had hit him.

“Go on, I’m ready for the sword,” the pirate begged him, looking up at him. And he remembered begging, pleading for the man to free Milah without ever getting what he’d asked for. So sword? No, he wasn’t going to kill Jones with his sword. He had a better idea now, a more painful way for him to die.

He moved his sword right underneath Jones’ neck for a moment, glaring down at the man who had hurt Milah and probably countless others. He had, after all, had many a man’s wife by his own admission. “No,” he told the pirate, gritting his teeth as he leaned down closer to him. “Do you know what it’s like, to have your wife stolen from you?” Not that he saw it that way. She’d been kidnapped, not stolen. But he had to put it into terms that the pirate could understand, so that is what he did. “To feel powerless to stop it?” Like Jones must feel now, on his knees with his own sword at his neck. This wasn’t the pain Rumple had felt, not really, but it would have to do. He didn’t think Jones was capable of caring for someone else the way he’d cared for Milah.

“It feels like having your heart ripped from your chest,” Rumple continued, finally getting to the point. “Actually, let me show you.” He didn’t hesitate to shove his hand into Jones’ chest, uncaring when the pirate grunted in pain. He might not be able to feel the emotional pain Rumple had, but the Dark One was going to make sure he felt as much pain as he could, even if it had to be physical instead. At least, that was his plan. He was going to rip the man’s heart out of his chest, and have him watch as he crushed the no doubt blackened thing to dust. But then something he never would have expected happened.

“Stop!” a woman yelled. But it wasn’t just any woman. He turned to look, shocked and unbelieving. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Was she really alive, after all this time?

He turned to take her in, at first merely stunned to hear her voice, to see her standing there. But the more he saw, the more upset he got. She was necklaces, a belt, a coat like Jones’. Pirates clothes. She looked worried, but not about him, or what killing a man might do to him. She was worried about Jones. There was so much more to this than he could have ever guessed, and it felt like time was suddenly moving unbearably slow as he struggled to utter two simple syllables. “Milah?”

“Milah,” he said, this time a statement instead of a question. He let go of the pirate’s heart, heedless of how he fell backwards. All of Rumple’s attention was now on his wife, the one he’d thought had been kidnapped. Only now he had the sneaking suspicion that that wasn’t the case at all. And all his hurt and all Bae’s hurt had been for nothing. “How?” he asked her, hoping he was wrong, hoping that he was just missing some piece to the puzzle that could make this all make sense.

“Milah, you have to run,” the pirate urged.

“No,” Milah argued, shaking her head. “I’m not leaving without you.” And that was what told him he was right. Milah wanted to leave with the pirate. Probably, she had from the very beginning. All this time she’d been alive and well, happy even, while he and Bae grieved for her. While he lamented failing her, causing her pain, she’d been off with this pirate, doing who the hell knew what.

“Oh how sweet,” he was quick to mock. He couldn’t show how hurt he was by this. Milah knew him better than anyone. If she saw how hurt he was, she could dig in deeper, use it against him. Like how she’d teased him for being a coward in front of everyone at the bar. No, he wasn’t going to give her that power, that satisfaction. Not now.

“It appears there’s more to this tale then I know,” he added, glaring down Milah as he did. “Tell it to me Milah,” he demanded, pointing his sword at the pirate. It was amazing how quickly his goal had changed. First he’d been set on making Jones regret ever laying a hand on Milah. But now… now he felt like she was the enemy. Like they were stuck in one of those arguments they’d used to have where no one came out a winner, only worse this time. She’d made him the punchline or some sick joke. She had probably watched as Jones taunted him, laughing along with the crew as he begged the man to let her go. And he felt more hurt, more betrayed, then he ever had before, despite all the times he’d been betrayed in the past.

“Please don’t hurt him, I can explain,” Milah begged him. That only made him all the angrier. What had the pirate ever done that was so great? Milah would never have stood up for him like that. Never. And here she was, desperate to defend the man who had bullied him.

“Tick tock, Dearie, tick tock!” he snapped back. Because yes, he was going to listen to what she had to say. He had to know why she’d decided to leave himself and more importantly Baelfire. But that didn’t mean he was happy about it. It didn’t mean he wasn’t so very hurt and trying desperately to cover that up with rage instead.

“That first night when Killian and his crew came into the tavern, he told stories, about the places he’d been, and I fell in love with him.” And that was when it hit him. Milah’s dreams about going and seeing the world… had that all come from the pirate? In insistence that the leave, her promise to attempt to stay only for her to be ‘captured’ a week later…. It really was all just some stupid game she’d been playing with him, designed to hurt him while she and her lover got to watch and laugh.

He pressed his sword into the pirate’s leg in anger, disappointed when the cry of pain didn’t satisfy him as much as he wanted it too. But it was no surprise that it didn’t, what with Milah being so concerned for Killian.

“I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way,” Milah pleaded as if she could read his mind. He wasn’t sure he believed her though. She’d hated him from the moment he’d come back from the war. She’d belittled him in front of a tavern full of people. Was it really such a stretch to believe she’d enjoyed running away with a pirate and watching him suffer from the lies they’d told him? And yet, he wants to believe it. Wants to believe that he meant something to her, like she meant to him. “I didn’t know how to tell you the truth, I’m sorry.”

All he could do was stare for a moment, watching Milah and trying to make sense of her ‘explanation’. So what, the pirate had spouted off words about far off lands and swept her off her feet? He didn’t understand. He knew he hadn’t been the perfect husband, or even really a good one, no matter how hard he’d tried to be. But for her to not even tell him what was happening? For her to run away with a pirate and leave him believing she was going to be used for ‘companionship’ by the crew? He wasn’t okay with that.

“And so here we are,” he responded, anger leaking into his voice as he pointed at her. “You’ve come to save the life of your  _ True Love _ , the pirate.” She was staring at him, looking hurt, but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. The pain he was feeling was unbearable, he just had to express it. “I didn’t realize the power of True Love before.” Because apparently, he’d never experienced it. At least not romantically. No matter how much he’d loved Milah, she hadn’t loved him back, not unconditionally. “It is impressive. I’d hate to break it up,” he lied as the pirate groaned on the ground. “Actually no, I’d love to,” he decided, turning away from Milah so he could look down at Jones.

Maybe killing the pirate would make Milah understand how hurt he was feeling. Maybe it wouldn’t. But the voices in his head said it would make him feel better, and he didn’t have anything else to do with his growing rage so he might as well. Take it out on Jones the bully, the man who was willing to let others believe he had raped their wives. The man who had lied to Rumple’s face, who would shove a poor beggar onto the ground for knocking into him, who would make a cripple fight him only to say he deserved all the pain he felt when he refused to fight. Yes, Jones deserved it, whether or not he’d hurt Milah.

“Wait,” she demanded of him, making him pause yet again. He didn’t know why he kept doing as she asked. He should ignore her. After all, since when had she listened to him? And yet he paused as she continued. “I have something you want.”

That caught his attention, even though he was sure it was a bluff. “Well I find that very difficult to believe,” he told her, even as he pulled his sword out of Jones’ leg and focused all of his attention on her. But, to his surprise, she soon pulled out the hat of the man from earlier, the one who had procured a magic bean and was going to trade it with him. Rumple stared at in, shocked that it had found its way into Milah’s possession. “Where did you get that?” he questioned as he pointed at the item in question.

“You know who I took it from,” Milah replied smugly. And he felt almost like the coward again, the one who couldn’t do anything right, the one who was berated by his wife. “I may not know what the Dark One wants with a magic bean, but I have it.” She held all the cards yet again, and was taunting him with them.

“Oh, I feel a proposal coming on,” he said. And he hated that. He’d finally, for once, had all of the power, when before he’d held none. Finally, Milah had offered some form of apology to him, and finally she’d talked to him, listened to him, because she had to. But now she was taking the power back, and it wasn’t fair. Not when he’d finally had control, not when he was about to make a bully pay for his misdeeds, not when all he really wanted was a more in-depth explanation and an acknowledgement of how what she’d done had hurt him, had hurt Bae. It wasn’t right.

“The magic bean in exchange for our lives,” she was quick to demand. And suddenly he remembered how he’d tried to save his relationship with his father using a bean, just like Bae had with him. Beans, beans, why did everything come back to beans? How could one small little thing have the power to make people hope they could stay together, only to tear them apart? And why was Milah so invested in staying with her pirate when she could barely be bothered to be in the same room as him?

“Deal?” she asked, and he approached her, leaving the pirate behind. She looked so scared of him now, but like she was trying not to be. And even though scary was what he was going for, it hurt somehow. It reminded him how little she thought of him compared to the man laying on the ground behind him. A part of him wanted to just disappear now, the way he’d wanted to back when he was the coward standing in the tavern. But he needed the bean to get to Bae, to make up with the only person in his life who had ever cared about him.

“I want to see it first,” he demanded of Milah, all the hurt and anger shining through his overly expressive eyes. And so it was that they went to the ship, Milah supporting Jones as they walked. The moment they got to the ship, Milah showed just how integrated she’d become with the crew. She said orders easily, commanding the crew who did what she said without question. It was rather odd to see, if he was honest. She fit in so well here. She was so at home. Without him, and without their son.

“Well, well, seems like you finally found the family you could never have with me,” Rumple baited her. Milah had yet to ask about their son after all, and that was the thing enraging him more than anything else. She had made a family with him, even though it wasn’t perfect. Had she really been able to just replace Bae like that with these pirates? Did she really not care about her son at all?

She didn’t reply to him though, instead waiting for a member of the crew to hand her a pouch. It was a pouch that they had taken from the man who had been wanting to make a deal with him. She came in front of him, showing him the bean, and he stared at it longingly. Bae. He could finally get back to his son and start making up for all the things he’d done, for leaving him alone in a strange new world. He reached out to grab it, but Milah tossed it to her lover with a smirk.

“You asked to see it, now you have,” Jones stated. He thought it an odd choice, to give what he wanted to the man who was already injured, and who he’d shown he had no qualms about hurting. But for now he would let them get away with it. For now.

“Do we have a deal?” Milah asked the question that he normally asked people. He tilted his head as he regarded her. She was making a power move, he thought. Showing she was in charge by asking him the question, but withholding the bean from him. He wasn’t happy about that. “Can we go our separate ways?”

“Do you mean, do I forgive you? Can I move on?” he asked, dangling the question in front of her. After all, she should have asked for forgiveness. She’d left him to think she was being abused by a bunch of pirates. That was something one ought to apologize for. But to him? No of course not. She’d said she was sorry, but only when her lover’s life was on the line. And maybe he could let all of it go, if it wasn’t for one nagging detail. “Perhaps, perhaps. I can see you are  _ truly _ in love.”

“Thank you,” Milah said with a small bow of her head, as if he’d already agreed instead of saying perhaps. Because he’s not down, not yet. Not until he got an answer to the question burning inside of him now.

“Just one question.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked, looking at him with curiosity. As if there wasn’t a million different things he could want to know about why she left, about why she never came back, about what she’d been doing this whole time. But then, his question wasn’t about why she left, or how she was. Sure he wondered, but no, his one questions was much more important than that.

“How could you leave Bae?” he asked, voice more accusing than anything else as he pointed his finger at her. He finally couldn’t contain his anger anymore, and his magic lashed out, causing things to clank around the ship. He didn’t care though, not now. He didn’t even pay any heed to the crew, who were freaking out. No, he had eyes only for Milah.

“Do you have any idea what it was like walking home that night….”

“Rumple…” she tried to interrupt him, but no. No he wouldn’t let her, not this time. She’d interrupted him before when he was a coward, but he didn’t have to let her this time. He had the power here, and she could just stand there and listen to him for once.

“…knowing I had to tell our son…”

“Please.” The word was forceful, but he continued to ignore her asking him to stop. He had a right to know the answer to this! He had a right to know why she’d thought it best to leave him and more importantly Bae thinking she’d be killed by pirates.

“… that his mother was dead?” he finally finished his question, despite her attempts to stop him.

“I was wrong to lie to you,” she told him quickly, but her stance was defensive, and it seemed to him that she was just saying what she thought she wanted to hear. And if she was, she was wrong because it wasn’t what she’d done to him that angered him the most. “I was the coward, I knew that.”

“You left him!” he shouted at her, one of the only times he’d ever done so. “You abandoned him!” A part of him knew he was yelling at himself as well as her. He’d abandoned their son too, even the man who’d found the bean knew that much. But at least he cared. At least he was trying to get back to the boy. But Milah? She hadn’t even brought him up. She hadn’t even asked about him, or tried to gather information about what had happened to her son, their precious boy.

“And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel sorry for that-“

“Sorry isn’t enough!” he yelled at her. She stared at him then, like he was being unreasonable. Unreasonable, for thinking she should have done more to be there for her child, to not just disappear and let him think her dead. She’d had every opportunity to come back, to see Bae and let him know the truth, or even watch from afar and make sure he was alright. But she hadn’t, she hadn’t truly cared. Not enough, not enough for her to even try to do right by Bae. “You let him go,” he accused.

“I let misery cloud my judgement,” Milah defended herself, instead of just admitting that she was wrong. And even if it was true, misery had been enough to keep her from loving and being there for their son?

“Why were you so miserable?” he asked her, glaring, daring her to come up with a reason good enough for why she left Bae thinking her dead.

“Because I never loved you,” she hissed at him. There was so much anger, and so much venom, and all he could do is remember the times she’d used that tone on him before.  _ It’s just my husband. Run home Rumple, it’s what you’re good at. You could have fought! You could have died! _ The pain was measured, purposeful. She wanted to hurt him, to see him back down like the coward he’d been before. She wanted to control him, to berate him in front of everyone as if to show that she might have married him, but she loathed him just as much as everyone else. So that was when he snapped.

He plunged his hand into her chest then, annoyed when the pirate tried to intervene. “Milah!” the man yelled as he tried to charge forward, but Rumple stopped him with a wave of his free hand, restraining Jones with his own rope to his own mast. This wasn’t about him after all. This was about finally making Milah understand how hurt he’d been, how he and Bae had both felt when she’d left like she had. She seemed incapable of understanding, but now she would. He didn’t have to back down, he had the power now. And he could make her feel a fraction of the pain he knew all too well.

He pulled her heart out of her chest, ignoring the pirate’s yell of “no!” It was almost a surprise to see it there, beating in his hand. He squeezed it, not enough to make it turn to dust, but enough for her to feel pain. She fell to the ground, or she almost did. The pirate managed to break free from the mast and catch her before she did. Rumple stood over them both, looking down at them. He felt like he should feel some level of satisfaction, but he didn’t. Milah didn’t seem to understand the pain, didn’t seem to know that it wasn’t even close to the amount of pain she’d caused him. And she wasn’t even looking at him. She had eyes only for her lover.

She looked up at the pirate with such adoring eyes. It was the way she’d looked at him, what felt like lifetimes ago. Long before he’d become the Dark One, and before he’d crippled himself. When they were in love, when they’d talked about having a family, she’d looked at him like that. “I love you,” she whispered to him, hand going to cup his cheek.

That was when he did it. He didn’t know if he’d been planning to do it from the moment, he’d pulled her heart out of her chest, or if it was just a reaction to what he’d heard. All he knew was that Milah had well and truly turned her back on him and on Bae. She had caused them so much pain. They’d grieved for her, had a funeral for her. And here she’d been, all this time, happy as could be with her lover.

His fist closed around her heart then, and a moment later it and she were both gone. The heart was now dust, and he wondered if now she felt the way he had. Maybe she did, if it was even possible for her to.

He felt like he should feel satisfied, now that he’d finally made Milah feel his pain, or something close to it. But he didn’t. He just stood, letting the wind blow the dust from his hand, staring. He felt… empty. There was no pleasure from this, not even a sense of relief. There was just numbness. Nothing else.

“You may be more powerful now demon, but you’re no less a coward,” Jones yelled at him, turning from his dead lover to glare at the Dark One. Rumple didn’t care though. The pirate didn’t matter. All he wanted now was to get the bean and get out of there. So he could maybe stop feeling so numb.

“I’ll have what I came for now,” he said. But the pirate was angry, and he seemed to clench his fist even tighter, the one that had caught the bean when Milah threw it to him.

“You’ll have to kill me first!” he demanded, a look of rage and pain shining through his eyes. Rumple might not have been able to make Milah understand his pain, but it seemed the pirate understood at least a bit of it now. He had lost all hope, and wanted to be dead now that Milah was gone. Funny, but Rumple could remember the nights he’d lied awake, wished he’d been taken instead of her.

“Ah-ah. I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for you, sonny boy.” He whipped out his sword, cutting the man’s hand from his body so he could get the bean clutched inside it. Jones would have to live as he had, knowing that the woman he’d cared about was dead and there hadn’t been a thing he could do about it. That was the real pain. Hearing the pirate cry out from losing his hand didn’t mean anything. Living without Milah would be the real punishment for all the things this man had done.

Rumple picked up the hand, tucking it into his cloak before moving his sword so it rested on the captain’s shoulder. He remembered the man doing something similar to him, so it was only fitting that Jones felt weak and helpless as he was taunted by the man at the other end of the sword.

“I want you alive,” he told the pirate, “because I want you to suffer like I did.” He giggled a bit for show as he turned away, sheathing his sword as he did. He took some joy from finally getting the better of the man who he’d thought had kidnapped his wife, the man who had featured in many a nightmare. But somehow he still felt rather numb. Not that it mattered. He had what he’d come for now. He could get back to Bae. That was all that mattered.

Jones, naturally, didn’t agree with that. The man cried out as he attacked, really a rather bad tactic, and Rumple turned only for a hook to end up embedded in his chest. He just giggled though, slightly amused that the man had thought it would work. It was a relief after the numbness. “Killing me is going to take a lot more than that, Dearie,” he taunted.

“Even demons can be killed,” the pirate argued, unwilling to believe that even vengeance would be denied him. “I will find a way.” But no, he wouldn’t. No one in this realm knew how to kill the Dark One, not with Bae in another realm and everyone else who had known dead. And Rumple wasn’t about to go around revealing his secret. Maybe one day he would, when he was old and tired of living like Zoso had been. But if he ever got to that point, it wasn’t going to be within the pirate’s lifetime, of that he was sure.

“Well good luck living long enough,” he retorted, vanishing then in a puff of maroon smoke and leaving the hook to clatter uselessly onto the deck of the ship.

He got back to his work bench rather quickly, setting the pirate’s severed hand onto his desk. He smiled, looking up at the drawing of Bae that he kept there. Soon, so very soon, he’d finally get to see his boy again.  _ I’m coming Bae _ , he thought, moving his attention back to the pirate’s hand. He started prying it open, one finger at a time. At first he wasn’t worried, but as he pulled back one finger, and then two, he started to get concerned. Where was it? Where was the bean?

He pushed the third finger open and paused, staring at the last one. Could a whole bean really hide under one finger? He moved rapidly after a pause, forcing the last finger open as well, only to see nothing but an empty hand.

He took a deep breath, staring down at the hand. “No,” he muttered, not wanting to believe this had all been for nothing. “He tricked me!” he yelled then, pushing the table over in his anger. He’d been so close to getting back to his son, so very close. Only now it was impossible. His hopes were shattered like the objects that had been on his table. But the drawing of Bae was still intact, laying on top of everything else. Just like his drive to get back to his son. If he ever saw that pirate again, he’d make him pay for tricking him like this. But there was more than one way to get to his son, and he wasn’t going to stop looking. He wasn’t going to give up and abandon him for good. Not like Milah had.

“Don’t worry Bae,” he muttered as he bent, gently picking up the drawing. “I’ll get to you eventually. I promise.”


End file.
